


Wheel in the Sky

by vernie_klein



Series: Like the Heart Goes [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bobby Knows, But again- if you haven't seen it by now, But it is Supernatural- So Sammy will be back, Character Death, Dean is fucked up a hundred-ways to Sunday, Dean really loves his brother, Episode: s02e21 All Hell Breaks Loose, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, Part Eight in the Series, Sam is a character in this story- but he's dead, Show level violence, Spoilers, so it kinda doesn't count
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-27
Updated: 2015-06-27
Packaged: 2018-04-06 09:21:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4216236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vernie_klein/pseuds/vernie_klein
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Part Eight in the Series</i>
</p>
<p>We all know what happens in this episode, right? This is what happened after. LtHG's style</p>
<p>
  <i>This is the story of Sam and Dean Winchester. Not the story we've seen played out on our television screens a million times, but the story of what happened to get them to where they are today. The story of two brother's souls, so tightly woven together, that neither can be whole.</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> (each story can be read independently of each other)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wheel in the Sky

**Author's Note:**

> We are starting down the road of some serious canon divergence now. I would say that this is the last story that you will be able to read independently of the others. 
> 
> The title is a song by Journey. It was written and composed by Robert Fleischman, Neal Schon and Diane Valory.
> 
> not beta'd. mistakes are my own. This is really just a short interlude into the next story. #SorryNotSorry for the lack of smut. I promise to make it up very soon!

**SamAndDean**

The rain soaked through Dean’s clothes. He didn’t care however; Dean only thought of Sam’s limp body in his arms as mud oozed its way into his boots and water pooled in the collar of his jacket. Sam’s rapidly cooling body slumped against his, his back a blossomed stain of crimson, tainting everything. Dean cried tears like he’d never cried before. Not when his mom died… Not when John died…. Not even Sam leaving for Stanford had garnered the pain and anguish Dean felt at that precise moment. That very moment, Dean decided… Sam in his arms…. _That_ was the worst point of Dean’s life. He screamed, _why_ ’s and _bring him back_ ’s at the sky. He prayed to a God he didn’t even believe in. Shortly after, _fuck you_ ’s and _why not me_ ’s peppered his speech. 

Dean vaguely registered Bobby watching on, keeping silent tribute. He wanted to shout _fuck you_ to Bobby as well. The _how could you let Sam die_ , dying on his lips. Dean knew Bobby wanted to approached, but really wanted to allow Dean time to grieve. But Dean didn’t want to grieve. He wanted his fucking brother back. He wanted back all the times her should have said _I love you_ , but didn’t. All the times he should have kissed Sam senseless, but didn’t. He wanted back the time at Greg’s that he _should_ have done something, _anything_ to thank Sam for the way he felt. He just wanted the chance to prove to Sam that he could be what Sam wanted.

Dean struggled to stand. The thick, cloying mud invaded his socks and weighed down his jeans; but Dean didn’t care. He hoisted Sam up from the wet mud. Dean carried Sam out of their house in Lawrence and now he was going to carry Sam back to the only place that had been home after that. Dean knew Bobby was hovering around to help if he needed it, but this burden was meant for only Dean to shoulder.

He staggered down the soupy road, his feet sinking with every step. Dean resolved to put one foot in front of the other. He owed it to Sam. Dean glanced down the road, the Impala in sight. He hitched his brother’s limp body up, trying to keep it from slipping. He watched as Bobby walked ahead and opened the back door on the passenger side.

Dean pushed and manipulated his brother’s body into the back seat. He climbed in the other door and cradled Sam’s head on his lap. Dean’s green eyes connected with the blue of Bobby’s in the rearview. He nodded once, pulled the keys from his pocket and passed the key ring forward. He settled back in his seat, mud and blood squishing between his fingers. Dean pulled Sam’s body tight to his legs. He winced as Bobby slammed on the gas and tore from the lot. Rain poured down the windows, but Dean paid no heed as he stroked his baby boy’s hair and muttered _no no no_. His free hand tangled in Sam’s jacket and he buried his nose in his brother’s hair.

He smelled sulfur, blood and mud, but underneath it all was a smell that was uniquely _Sam_. He smelled of irish spring soap, old books, ozone- Dean suspected from his disappearance, and baby shampoo. There was a faint hint of the cinnamon of their toothpaste; but underneath everything, Sam smelled distinctly of _home_. Underneath the trauma, and Azazel’s blood was a smell that Dean could pick out of a crowd blindfolded. _Sam_. His Sam.

Bobby pulled into the Salvage Yard as close to the front door as he could get. Dean allowed him to help pull Sammy out of the car and positioned him in Dean’s outstretched arms. Bobby closed the back car door and walked ahead to open the doors for Dean. Bobby went ahead down the the panic room to pull the mattress of the cot.

Dan stumbled down the stairs and barely made it in the door before he was half-dropping his brother on the thin bed. Dean collapsed next to Sam and curled his warm body around his rapidly-cooling brother. He nodded gratefully to Bobby as he covered them both in a thick wool blanket. Bobby left a pitcher of water on the desk. He walked past Dean and patted him twice on the head.

Dean slept for a few hours, his arms and legs wrapped tightly around Sam. He buried his face in Sam’s hair. The smell of decay was starting to set in, but Dean didn’t care. He wasn’t leaving his baby boy. He couldn’t- he would die first. Dean drifted in and out of consciousness for almost two days. He debated taking the easy way out, a bullet to the head. He had the gun, his Colt M1911; loaded, the barrel nestled against his chin before he chickened out. He dropped the gun onto the floor and cried. Dean cried until his tears dried up and the blanket tucked around Sam was damp and musty. He drifted off to sleep, the mud on his face faint streaks against his pale skin.

Dean woke with a start. He had finally made up his mind. He would load Sam into the Impala, drive to the nearest embankment, and floor it. Him, his baby boy, and his Baby. He didn’t _want_ to Thelma and Louise that bitch, but what choice did he have? He couldn’t live without Sam. Dean sat up from the mattress and pulled on the tee shirt he must have discarded sometime in the last few days. He scrubbed a clammy hand down his face and dropped it to his side.

No. He couldn’t do that, not to Bobby. Dean had to come up with a different plan. He paced the panic room wall to wall, becoming more frantic with each turn. He glanced at his brother’s body. The blood had all pooled to the lower half of Sam, leaving him a pale clammy looking grey. Dean clenched and unclenched his fists as he paced. He took in the symbols around the perimeter of the panic room and had an epiphany. Dean threw on the remainder of his clothes and bolted through the door. He took the stairs two at a time and was out the back door before Bobby could even look up and question where Dean was headed.

Dean jumped in the Impala, starting her as quickly as he could. He threw her in drive and peeled off; rubber burnt and rocks flew as Dean left the Salvage Yard. He turned right and headed toward the nearest Crossroads.

**Author's Note:**

> **"Wheel In The Sky"**
> 
> _Winter is here again oh Lord,_   
>  _Haven't been home in a year or more_   
>  _I hope she holds on a little longer_   
>  _Sent a letter on a long summer day_   
>  _Made of silver, not of clay_   
>  _I've been runnin' down this dusty road_
> 
> _Wheel in the sky keeps on turnin'_   
>  _I don't know where I'll be tomorrow_   
>  _Wheel in the sky keeps on turnin'_
> 
> _I've been trying to make it home_   
>  _Got to make it before too long_   
>  _I can't take this very much longer_   
>  _I'm stranded in the sleet and rain_   
>  _Don't think I'm ever gonna make it home again_   
>  _The mornin' sun is risin'_   
>  _It's kissing the day_
> 
> _Wheel in the sky keeps on turnin'_   
>  _I don't know where I'll be tomorrow_   
>  _Wheel in the sky keeps on turnin'_


End file.
